


Odji

by casey270



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), Sauli Koskinen RPF, Tommy Ratliff (Musician)
Genre: M/M, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-26
Updated: 2013-03-26
Packaged: 2017-12-06 15:08:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/737057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casey270/pseuds/casey270
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life exists between the world of magic and the world of men, but only if you have the right number and the right balance to make it work.</p><p>The title Odji comes from the Romani word for soul or life force and the Egyptian word for wicked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Odji

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Glam Reverse BigBang. Thank you mods, for all the work you put into this. I really enjoyed it!
> 
> Artwork made by the wonderful michira_70. She made some fun, trippy art, and it spoke so loudly to me that I couldn't not write this.  
> Just look at this banner! 
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> the art post is here[AO3](http://archiveofourown.org/works/737702) or [LJ](http://michira-70.livejournal.com/110216.html) or [DW](http://michira-70.dreamwidth.org/75332.html). Everyone should go tell her how great she is!
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> And a big thank you to beniblue for stepping in and betaing at the last minute.

The fire burns brightly in front of the wagon, making the perfect barrier between his place on this makeshift stage and the crowd that’s gathered to hear the sound of his voice. He knows the reputation they have - the provincial thoughts of the audience turning his music, his show, into something dark and titillating - and he approves. It adds mystery, and at the end of the night, it adds coin to their purse.

He doesn’t hold back either, letting the notes rise and fall through the night air until he can feel their submission. Neither does Sauli, who's moving with erotic grace behind him on the stage, sinful and wicked as he arches and writhes in time to the music. Adam can see all eyes in the audience locked on them, and that’s what the show is designed for. No one pays attention to Tommy, strolling through the crowd, long, nimble fingers reaching into pockets, lifting gold and valuables. 

Tommy has the gift of the veil, and Adam’s understanding of it is weak, but he doesn’t question it. He only accepts that despite the flamboyance of Tommy’s hair and dress, he’s free to move through the crowd almost unobserved, smiling in satisfaction when he finds a particularly interesting trinket or bauble. He’s a shadow passing amongst them, and all would be hard pressed to remember or describe him later. It’s a talent that Tommy’s learned to use well, and not just during times of shows.

Sauli has magic. Not quite a genie; not quite a man, but possessing qualities of both at times, even if neither is fully under his control yet. He moves and twists his body in unimaginable ways while dancing behind Adam, and the people ohhh and ahh in the audience. He finds the sensuality in the notes Adam sings and gives it movement. It loosens the purse strings of those who come to watch and listen, and Tommy picks what’s left.

Adam contributes to the spell of the night with his voice and his persona. He knows he’s been gifted straight from the gods with the ability to hold men and women alike spellbound when he performs, and he thinks it would be an affront to the heavens to not use his endowments to their full potential. He lets his voice rise and soar and doubleback to embrace itself, and even he’s not immune to its power. It stirs him as much as it does those who watch, and he holds no shame for the state of his hardening cock tenting his pants. It’s part of what they come to see, after all.

He gives them an escape from the drudgery of life, a short trip into the exotic and forbidden, and they pay him in both currency and adoration, if only for the night. He knows that when they leave here, they’ll all go home to a night of wantonness and debauchery in their own beds, but the cold light of morning will turn their feelings to guilt, and they’ll pass blame to him and his boys. But by morning he’ll be on his way to the next town, and then the next one after that. Theirs is a life of freedom and constant wandering, and it suits them quite nicely.

He sees the eyes looking back at him starting to glass over and the hands in the audience wandering to find the warmth of their neighbors, and he knows the show is almost over. He’s taken them as far as he cares to; the rest of their journey must be completed in the privacy of their own homes. Besides, he’s looking forward to a little privacy so he can complete his own journey with his boys.

By the time he finishes his song, Tommy’s by his side, his pockets as full as the collection basket that sits at the edge of the fire. Sauli wends his way to stand behind them, one hand on each of their shoulders, and wispy tendrils that are unseen by the few remaining audience members teasing playfully at the clothing covering them. When Sauli’s in a devilish mood his magic works best.

Adam leans back, kissing both his boys before he jumps down to retrieve tonight’s take. Combined with what he knows Tommy gathered, it looks to be one of their better nights, and that only helps the stirrings he feels growing in his dick. They’ve long since passed the point of needing to do this to survive, but the thrill of conquest, the idea of winning hard earned money from a group of strangers, still excites him. It excites them all, and he can’t wait to take advantage of that excitement.

He takes a moment to enjoy the sight of his boys before he climbs back up on the wagon. They truly are a magnificent sight: both tiny and beautiful in their own way. They’ve been together through so many ages that he’s lost count of the actual years. It’s been so long that he can’t even remember the time when they weren’t together, but he knows it must have been true at one point. 

He knows they were born in different places. They each had their own parents, siblings and families. They had childhoods that didn’t include each other, but those memories are from a time so far removed that it’s only a distant shadow in his mind. This is how they were always meant to be. This is their destiny, their fate, their fortune, their lot in life. This is where the music happens and where the magic begins. 

He knows that if he were to lose one of them, he would lose more than a piece of himself. His world as he knows it would end. He would no longer be able to sing people into the emotions of the night. Instead his voice would spend eternity crying out its loss, leaving a trail of hopelessness and despair in its wake. He would haunt the world with his longing and loneliness, turning the hearts of men black when they crossed his path. Even if the three became two, the energy wouldn’t be balanced. He wouldn’t be able to lift his voice in passion as he does now.

But they are together, where they belong, how they belong, and right now, he’s reveling in the sight of his boys, his others, playing with each other. Tongues and touches teasing, coaxing embers into roaring flames for him. Tommy’s ghostly fingers reaching places on Sauli’s body, finding and bringing them to exaltation. And Sauli’s sinuous movements leaving Tommy panting with need. They’re putting on their own show for him, and he approves.

Yes, it’s time to retreat to the confines of the wagon, drawing the curtains tight behind them, he thinks. What he has planned for his boys tonight needs no prying eyes in observation. He’ll make them both feel his gift tonight.

The small silhouette of the wagon belies the scope of its interior. It’s another gift of the heavens that he doesn’t quite understand but never questions. The three of them seem to exist where the world of men meets the world of magic, and he’s never doubted the truthfulness of both domains.

He pushes aside the silks hanging from the rafters as he leads his boys inside. They move with rhythm to their steps and fluidity in their motions. They’ve both turned their attention towards him, and he’s not of a mind to complain. He loves when they decide his pleasure is their ultimate satisfaction, especially after he performs. 

Tonight they’ve decided to share their energies and take care of his needs first. They take their time removing the trappings of his performance - first his hat and headband, then his jacket and boots. He can’t believe that others - the people who come to watch his performance - sometimes rush through this, because seeing both his boys kneeling in front of him as they attend to him is not something he wants to hasten. He loves the feeling of his boot laces being slowly loosened as his twin pretties free his feet from the confines. He’s walked the earth in those boots - they’ve served him well, but his boys serve him better when they remove them.

When his boots are out of the way, he feels his lovelies gently rubbing the tension of the day out of his calves and feet as they slowly pull down his socks. Their warm tickling touches turn even this most mundane task into something erotic, something to be shared and cherished. There’s more than magic in their touches - there’s love and communion as well, and there’s knowing.

Sauli stands and begins to remove the decorations from his hair, and he leans in to the touch as his boy’s fingers wind gently through the strands before grasping them firmly as he pulls Adam back for a kiss. He loves the way they all have power over each other at times. Balance is freely given and taken between them, each knowing instinctively when dominance is called for.

Looking down, he sees Tommy still on his knees, watching Sauli and licking his lips in anticipation and sharing. He knows they have ways of communicating that he’s not privy to, but it doesn’t bother him. This is just another gift they use to bring pleasure to their little family. They never use it to segregate him from the group, only to enhance his pleasure. 

Tommy looks a question at them, and Sauli answers with a “Yes, love.” Adam leans back and relaxes as Tommy’s quick fingers unbutton his shirt, not even disturbing the fabric in their wake. He lets his boys have their way with him as they guide him from chair to bed. They take turns removing bits and pieces of the trimmings and clothing and showpieces from him until he’s lying on the silky pillows with nothing to shield his inner self from them. He savors the way their eyes never leave him as they undress each other, slowly peeling off the layers until there’s nothing to obscure the vision they present.

He sees Sauli’s desire in his eyes, and he knows that it’s a need to touch and hold and kiss that he’s feeling. He sees the quiver run through Tommy’s body, and knows this boy is showing anticipation for hands holding him down, making him beg. He knows his own body is straining to direct and control, to make sure that they each get what they require from this.

As candles begin to flicker with no apparent help, bringing the combined smells of vanilla and sandalwood to the air, he laughs at the thought that they would ever try to hide any part of themselves from the others. They’re three, but they’re also one. There’s nothing he wouldn’t share with his boys, nothing he wouldn’t give them, including the sounds of pleasure they’re bringing him. He sings his joy, his anticipation and his excitement to them, and they feel it too. This is how he shares his gift with them.

Sauli sends wisps of want trailing along his skin, his magic working perfectly when he’s lost in the moment because this is Sauli’s elemental nature. Sauli doesn’t plan and scheme; he simply takes what life offers him and finds the joy and arousal in it, enhancing it before he offers it up as his gift to them. Sauli can - and does - envelope him in a cocoon of touch and sensation, knowing that it drives him wild, igniting all his senses at once. 

Tommy is the one who usually worries and wonders, but that’s only his public face. When it’s like this, when it’s only them, the rest of the world left outside, away from the magic, Tommy is a playful, bedeviling spirit, allowing himself be seen one moment, only to let the veil fall, so that Adam never knows where to expect the next touch of hands or mouth. Some are fleeting and barely there, while others are so intense and demanding that it brings a tear to his eye and a plaintive edge to his voice.

He sings his desires to the silks that hang over the bed, watching as his boys shiver when his music makes its way to the cores of their very beings. The high notes bring them to the absolute edge with the immediacy they carry, while the lower register thrums through their bodies, leaving them ready and wanting _more_. He loves the way he can take them on this journey without a single touch, if that’s what he desires. He caresses and teases them with his voice, their quest for new and now and next evident in their answering moans. 

They enjoy the teasing and taunting. They revel in stoking the fires and building the flames with their tricks, knowing that they’re willing to give all they have to each other. They keep each other balanced on the precipice, knowing that the others are willing to fall and break for them if that’s what’s desired. The infinite possibilities of pleasure are too tender to be held in the finite world of man, so they let their stratum expand. They move through earth and water and fire and air and into the quintessence ether of existence, all while remaining in their wagon. This is their reality, their lives, and they use it to their advantage.

It’s not all trickery and glamour. They use the secrets men have spent history learning and perfecting to bring each other pleasure, too. They use the secrets they’ve learned about each other in their time together to make the pleasure more intimate.

So they give in to the delights of their human side, mixing in the glories of their gifts as they see fit. He lets his boys play first, and Tommy covers him with his veil as Sauli cloaks him in warmth and love. The whole of creation is reduced to the sensations he’s feeling right now, and it brings him to the verge of insane passion. 

Their fingers and their mouths trace the paths of the shivers they cause him, and their joy at watching him writhe beneath them is evident in the effort they put into this. He feels fingers entering him, twisting, turning, searching for that one special spot while lips and tongues tease his cock into leaking readiness. 

He feels more hands and another mouth touching all the parts of his body, and he lets his appreciation for his boys’ talents show in the way he bucks and arches. There are teeth, nipping and biting and leaving marks that will be gone in seconds even though the ghost of the sensation will stay with him for days. They leave a trail of need along his collar bones and hip bones and ribs, and he would swear to all the ancients that they’re everywhere at once.

The fingers withdraw with one last twist that sends a spasm through him as they brush the bundle of nerves buried deep inside, and he mourns the loss of the wet warmth around his aching cock. He knows they won’t leave him empty and wanting for long, and his faith is rewarded when he feels the dull pressure of the cockhead against his hole. 

Sometime when they play this game they enter him with a swiftness that guarantees he’ll feel the burn all day as they ride to a new location in their wagon, but today quickness is not the plan. Today they take their time, entering him so slowly that he begs and pleads for more, for everything. The sweet agony of the tempo changes the notes he sings, and he can feel them fighting with everything they have to keep the rhythm they need tonight. 

The leisurely glide of the cock in and out of him belies the building tension in the air. He senses them slide from adagio to andante, and he knows it’s as hard for his boys to hold back as it is for him. Even with being left sightless and powerless, completely at their mercy, he’s wholly alive in every moment and sensation. 

A hand encircles his cock, the delicate fingers hiding the strength within them, and he feels the rapture of the moment growing so huge that it leaks from his aching cock. The hand could belong to either of his boys; it doesn’t matter which, because they give and they take all that they are to each other. At times like this, they’re unable to separate themselves from the others, even in their own minds. He knows they feel what he feels, just as he knows they act as he wishes to act. It’s all part of their magic.

The tempo of their dance quickens, and the hands and mouths become more demanding on his body. He feels the tightening start deep within, and he knows that the saltation from need and completion isn’t far from his grasp. He holds off for as long as he can, knowing his boys, his others, take pride in working to earn this from him. 

When he reaches the volatile horizon of his desires, he feels the essence of his pleasure and his pain released onto his belly as he sings the sweetest, purest note in existence. He feels the twin trembling from his pretties as they fight against their own release, and he lends whatever strength he has left to them. They know he wants to take them apart - wants to watch them as they crumble under his hand and his voice - and they will do anything to give him that.

He lets himself float for seconds, minutes, hours - time has no more meaning for them than does the seemingly limited space of their wagon - before he brings himself together enough to turn his attention to his boys.

He knows they would count his orgasm as a victory, with no thought to their own, but he has other plans for the night. This night is meant for triune rejoicing, so he sings them his eros and watches as it takes them apart. 

He lays his boys side by side in the bed as he whispers and hums and sings his songs to them. His mouth and his hands and his cock taking turns feeling and tasting and filling them. He divides his attention between them, knowing that their silent communication allows them to share everything, but he still needs to feel the contact with both.

He calls the tune they dance to now, and the sensual cadence of his voice has them begging and whimpering so nicely for him that the beauty of it brings a tear to his eye. This is the most precious gift they give him: the willingness to be vulnerable for him, and the trust behind it. They know he’ll push them and stretch them, and if they break for him, he’ll be there to hold them and help put them back together, better and stronger than before.

He watches them, watches their faces and expressions and their bodies, looking for signs and signals. He makes sure to bring them to the same points at the same time. He knows Tommy’s more sensitive to the physical touch, just as Sauli responds to the heightened emotions more. He knows just what each of his boys need, and he’s careful to give it to them in measured doses that keep them on the edge as long as possible. 

He sees the sheen of sweat break out on first one and then both of his lovely boys, and he knows they’re waiting for his permission. He feels them tremble and hears them plead, and each whispered _yes_ and _please_ grants him the power to see this through. They would give their very lives for him - of this he has no doubt. But seeing them give their essence to him is so much sweeter, so much better. 

He watches as their spirits dance through the air, twining and twirling and twisting until it’s impossible to tell one from the other. Then he knows the time has come. He knows that his boys are ready. They’re perfectly open for him, and willing to let him have his way.

He lies across both their bodies, a mess of arms and legs and fingers and tongues, and thrusts into one while his mouth finds the other. He moves to the ancient song now, in and out and glide and slide; the steps and the timing varying to fit the needs of the night. 

He touches their skin, he tastes their souls, and his voice rises to the gods of his father and his father before him as he watches them respond so faultlessly to him. They move as one, rising and falling and breathing and arching together, searching for that perfect moment of total bliss. 

They are so beautiful then, so absolute and complete in their want and need, and in their trust in his ability to give them that gift.

He unwraps them then, peeling back layers of trouble and worry and want and need until all that’s left - all that’s necessary - is the glowing spark of the love they feel for each other. This is where it all starts and ends. The rest is only dressing on the stage they show the world. This is where they belong to each other and no one else. This is the mind and the soul of their existence.

When his boys show him this, when they stand naked before him, holding their hearts out for him to cherish or abuse at his whim, he knows they’re ready, and he leads them to the peak of rapture. He gives them the strength and courage they need to be able to fall, to release their cares and their energies to the universe, and trust that what comes back to them will be worth the sacrifice of laying themselves open.

He thinks their love for each other is perfect right in this one small moment, and he would capture and preserve it if he could. But he knows that trying to make it stretch past what it’s meant to be would destroy everything that it is. It would destroy their magic. So he helps them break through, and he’s waiting on the other side to catch them, to hold them, to sing the sweetest notes and words to them. He steals their breath with the passion of the moment, only to breathe life back into them when they give in.

He lets his voice lead them back, back to him, back to the land of men, back to the life they have together, loving the way they look used and debauched because of him. He kisses them gently, knowing that the line of too much is close for both of them. They need time, they need peace and they need the sound of his voice to calm them and bring them back to him. 

He calls to them with his song, asking them to follow as he touches them, running his fingers ever so lightly across their heated skin. He watches and smiles as he sees them shiver in response, still too far on the other side to do much else. They’re spent and boneless, and knowing that it happened at his hand brings a new depth to the melody he sings. These are his boys; his beautiful, wonderful boys. And he wouldn’t give up this sight for all the magic in the universe.

He holds them close as he feels their hearts beating double and triple time, awash in the knowledge that they gave him so much tonight. He pets them and murmurs soothing sounds, giving the solace of knowing that he’s well pleased with them. He watches twin smiles blossom across their faces, directed first at him, then at each other. They are pleased tonight, just as he is - pleased with him, pleased with each other and pleased with this life they have.

They make room for him between them, curling in closely to their accustomed places by his side, seeking his warmth and strength. He knows he’s the keystone to the foundation of their relationship, but he also know that doesn’t grant him any special position or power over the others. They all give and they all take, but most of all they all share. There’s never been a desire on any of their parts for power or station, only the beauty and harmony they bring each other.

He lets them rest and relax, knowing they willingly gave everything to him. They need to regroup and regain their strength before they pack up and move their camp. No town welcomes them for more than a single night. No village is willing to admit that the emotions he and his boys bring out are always there, always hiding below the facade of respectability that the people have worked so hard to build.

He knows that they’ll be called out, that the _good people_ of the audience will blame a spell or enchantment for what they felt and what they did that night, never realizing that the only magic used was to bring out what already lived in their hearts.

The townsfolk will not hesitate to bear witness as to how the music and the movements bewitched them and caused them to lose their minds and their coin. How they were robbed of their sensibilities and their decency and monies. How they were taken advantage of and taken to a place they never asked to visit.

But they know. He knows, and his boys know that the magic only works on the willing. It can only cast its spell over those who call to it, to those who recognize and welcome it. But unlike the three of them, the people who come to watch aren’t ready to see or acknowledge that part of themselves. They revel in the communion while they watch the performance, letting it open their souls to the magic for a single night, only to reject that same freedom in the morning.

He watches while his boys ready things with the wagon. Sauli, ever the caretaker, prepares the interior - their home - for travel. Tommy, his practical boy, checks the wheels to make sure they’re ready to support them and carry them on another journey. He, himself, takes his time as he hitches the horses to the wagon, listening for the creak and groan of the oiled leather bindings that’s so comforting and familiar. There’s no need to issue orders or assign duties. They each take care of that which they’re drawn to.

They ride in comfortable silence, one of his pretty boys on either side of him. They travel through what’s left of the night and the dawning of a new day. They make their steady way until the sun wakes and heats the morning, and there are enough miles and villages between last night and now to make stopping for another show profitable. They’ll fill their pockets and stores again tonight, even though they still have last night’s take untouched, but the call of the show can’t be denied any more than the call of the magic can be ignored. This is the way they choose to live, simple and together, and they’re happy with it.

They find the perfect spot to stop and set up their small camp. There’s grass for the horses and trees for shade from the noonday sun. There’s even a lake nearby where they can wash and swim and play. He’s glad to be able to play with his boys. None of them have let the years rob them of their exuberance or the ability to see joy in the simple things of life. 

He digs a shallow fire pit while Tommy gathers wood for it. Sauli finds the rich, nutty bread, the salted beef and the tender potatoes they dug from the ground with their own hands to make them a satisfying breakfast. They need to eat before they rest for tonight’s show. He’s never understood why so many men choose to toil under the heat of the sun, when the cool evening breeze is so much more invigorating. He does appreciate the peace and solitude it affords them in their travels, though. It gives him the time and space to reflect and plan.

As he watches his busy boys preparing potatoes to roast over the fire, he thinks he might lead them to the ocean. He’s seen it before, but there have been more years than he cares to count between then and now. He thinks he’s ready to watch his lovelies play in the surf and ride the waves.

While they eat he broaches the subject with them. Would they like to travel past the ocean’s edge? Would they be willing to search out new lands with him? Lands that haven’t seen their show; lands that haven’t heard his voice. There aren’t many stops left on this side of the shore that don’t know them by name or reputation. Fresh ground would yield so graciously under their feet, and before he’s even done describing the allure of new lands, both his boys are ready to pack up and head out.

They have the money to hire a ship to take them and their wagon wherever they desire. He watches as Tommy counts the take from last night’s performance, whistling when the sum reaches higher that it has in the past. They could live like kings if they chose to, but they need the magic of the night and the performance and the music to satisfy themselves.

 

He knows that one day they’ll have to give up this life - that the traveling musical show and the wagon will become relics of a time past - but he knows they’ll find another way to find their way, always together - always three who are one, living between worlds, sharing the passion of their blood.


End file.
